


Research

by Aeregele



Series: Hidden [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: But so is everyone so eh, DID character, DID is "Dissociative Identity Disorder", Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Henry is a weird dadboi who likes to record everything that happens, Henry is also buff and can kick your ass, I don't mind feedback on future chapters though, I'm not an expert on DID so please don't hate me if I wrote it wrong or weirdly, Personalities on most of these characters are inspired by GoddessofAnubis's upon series, bit of self indulgence, michael is kind of a dick, most of the time William is with him, sometimes it gets gay, written around a certain headcanon I have of the afton family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeregele/pseuds/Aeregele
Summary: Michael wants nothing more than to find answers that scratch at the back of his mind. He, nor anyone, can seem to remember anything.With the help of his roommate, Mark (and even his own skepticism), they are hired at the old restaurant of Freddy's Fazbear's Pizzeria and plan to dig up whatever secrets lie beneath the lot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is mainly a self-indulgent fic about this random headcanon I woke up with and I'm very excited to continue it. Tell me what you think!  
> \- I will update tags as we go  
> \- I currently have 3 more chapters that I will post in the upcoming days as I continue to write!  
> \- The personalities of thee characters are inspired by the personalities of the guards that are from GoddessofAnubis's upon series. Ugh, I recommend it, their work is amazing <3
> 
> Warnings:  
> \- Language!  
> \- Michael being intense and weird.

Make sure to check out [my DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/) for my artwork of this fic and other fnaf stuff!

* * *

[Here's the new cover for this part of the series!](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/art/Hidden-cover-762832203) Hope y'all like it <3

* * *

 

He fumbled with the keys to his apartment, having recently come back from his shit job he had quit earlier. Finally getting the dumb key into the lock, he unlocked the door and walked in and slowly closed it, making sure it didn’t make too much noise when it closed. He looked up, nearly having a heart attack when he saw an unfamiliar man at the kitchen going through the cabinets above the counter.

He calmed down when he knew it wasn’t a burglar and tried to pinpoint this guy’s name. Brown hair… it’s short too. Blue polo, gray jeans.

 _Right,_ ” he mumbled to himself. “Hey, Mike.”

Mike, the man at the kitchen, jumped with a start at his roommate's voice. He turned around, his blue sparkling eyes staring at him in what seemed like fear. He was always so anxious. “H-hey, Mark…” he mumbled. “Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be home so early.”

“That’s fine, I don’t blame you,” Mark snorted and walked over to his roommate. “So what’s got you out and about?” He asked, noticing the brunette male had been making coffee.

“We’re about to pull an all-nighter,” he said. “Wanna join?”

“Uh… sure,” Mark raised a brow. “Didn’t expect you of all people to be up for an all-nighter. What’s got you cookin’?”

Mike laughed. Mark liked him, mainly because he was the only one that didn’t groan every time he said something cheesy or weird. It was quite the break to be honest.

“We’re going to be doing research tonight,” Mike explained, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “We’ve gotten pretty curious about this one job. I don’t know all the details yet, but I know it’s been bugging Michael a lot."

“Seems legit,” Mark shrugged, “anyway. I quit my job, I’m gonna go take a shower. Let Michael know I’m home, okay?”

“Sure,” Mike mumbled and watched Mark walk off and towards the appartement bathroom.

At least he was training to be a doctor anyway.

  
↞ ♡ ↠

 

Mark walked out of the bathroom and into his own room to gather his laundry, his hair still a bit wet. He didn’t realize he had closed his bedroom door until someone had knocked on it.

He listened for a bit, not wanting to mistaken him for the wrong person.

The knocking stopped for a second before he heard a low groan, almost a growl. Then he heard knocking again.

 

_One, two, three._

_One, two. One, two._

_One, two, three._

 

He walked over to his bedroom door and opened it, seeing bored silver eyes staring back at him. He had taken off his brown wig to reveal his shaved head — although he’d probably have to buzz it again soon — and taken out the contacts that had made his eyes a sparkling blue earlier.

_Oh, boy… here we go._

The silver-eyed man placed his hands on his hips before angrily shouting, _“You quit your job!?”_

“Well… yeah,” Mark shrugged uselessly. He was used to Michael’s sour attitude and wasn’t surprised he’d be yelled at. “It wasn’t gonna support me for long anyway, especially not after I become a nurse or something.”

Michael tisked, dropping his hands from his sides and just… standing there. He was probably just… talking to Mike or something.

Mark was patient anyway. Having to live with someone like Michael was hard, but it didn’t take too long to learn everyone’s names and what they like and don’t like. It’s like having a group of friends, but in one package.

_Actually no that's weird._

“Ya know what, fine,” Michael sighed. “Heard from Mike you wanted to join me in that all-nighter we were planning. I’m cool with it, ya just stay outta my way.”

Mark nodded and watched Michael walk away, probably to the couch or something to watch another dumb show.

He walked into the living room to see Michael at their desk, typing away at the keyboard. “How was therapy?” He asked, watching as Michael paused before hitting enter.

“It was alright,” he said and turned his head to look at his roommate. “They claim they can help me but honestly at this point I don’t think I need it.”

“You haven’t been getting better?” Mark asked, sitting on the couch.

“What am I going to get better from?” Michael asked cynically, glaring at Mark with his silver eyes. Those eyes always creeped Mark out. They looked blind and dead, the pupils were even white to add to the creepiness.

“I…” Mark didn’t know what to say. He saw the search engine Michael had used finally loaded his results. But Michael didn’t seem to notice or care at the moment. Of course Mark made a mistake, he always said stupid shit like that to this guy. “I’m not sure. I was just… I thought you were trying to get better from… having so many voices in your head. What’s that even like?”

“I’m more content with it than some think,” Michael replied, a small smirk creeping on his lips. “Reminds me I’m not always alone.”

Mark raised a brow. He got where Michael was coming from, and it’s not like he could just get rid of them. At least he was thinking of it in a positive way. He did seem like someone who would slowly become unhinged from being alone for too long.

Michael turned back to his computer, scrolling through his search results before he found a link that caught his eye. Mark just barely missed it, but almost died when he saw the page his roommate had clicked on.

There were scanned newspapers on the screen. Looking at each one he saw they were all about some restaurant. He was pretty sure this was the restaurant downtown that always had these rumors of being haunted by dead children.

“So what’s all this about?” He asked a little nervously.

“My dad ran a company,” Michael said. It sort of surprised Mark that he talked about his father so casual as he never talked about the man, and whenever he was mentioned he could see the absolute hatred he had for him. “I want to find answers.”

“On what?”

“A lot of things,” Michael answered, “It’s going to take a while and I don’t plan on sleeping anytime soon.”

_"Great.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love to binge some movies and speculate about your own boss?  
> (and also fall asleep on your not-boyfriend's shoulder.)

Make sure to check out [my DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/) for my artwork of this fic and other fnaf stuff!

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious,” Mark groaned tiredly, laying down on the couch. The tv was on but the volume turned down low enough to not disturb anyone. Mark couldn’t even hear it.

He was starting to wind down a bit, not really wanted to see what time it was but also not wanting to fall asleep.

“I don’t see why I would be joking,” Michael hummed, staring at the computer screen. He had been typing up an email. “I… I-It may not be the b-best idea but it’s also not the worst. It may be our only chance to l-learn something about our dad.”

The stutter in Michael’s voice and the way he looked around a bit anxiously was odd. Mark rolled his tired eyes at Mike’s paranoia.

“ _ Shut up _ ,” Michael hissed at himself, “I know what I’m doing.” He began typing away again, and Mark began to wonder if Michael was going a bit too fast.

“Who are you writing that letter to?” Mark asked. He knew Michael liked writing, he just never got to, so his emails were usually really long. It was kind of annoying though.

“The guy running Freddy’s,” Michael answered casually. “They’re hiring for the night shift.”

“Ew.”

“Maybe I can convince him to let you come with me every night since you’re training to be a doctor.”

Mark tilted his head to look at Michael disapprovingly. He could see his roommate had that creepy smile again. He knew he meant no harm, though, it was just the way he looked sometimes.

Mark frowned at the thought of staying nights at this haunted restaurant, but seeing Michael somewhat excited — or what he assumed was excitement — made him feel a bit guilty for not wanting to support him.

Then again his childhood friends (if he even had any) didn’t really… make it.

Mark shook his head. “Fine. Whatever. Guess I’m a little curious, too.”

“Good!” Michael shouted, smashing his keyboard. “I sent the email and hopefully he considers both of us.”

“What time is it?” Mark asked, watching as Michael walked into his line of sight.

“5AM,” Michael smiled, his silver eyes reflecting the tv light. “Wanna watch a scary movie?”

Mark groaned, sitting up and moving to give his roommate some room to sit. “Yah sure. What’s on the menu?”

“Paranormal and popcorn!” Michael smiled and retreated to the kitchen, waving his hand towards the bookshelf littered with books and movies.

“Of course,” Mark groaned and stood from the couch, the sleepiness wearing off as he walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed the first paranormal movie. He was pretty sure Michael wanted to binge it again. Again as in watch the whole series for the millionth time since they started sharing the apartment. He probably even watched it a million other times before that.

_ What a weirdo. _

Michael returned with a couple bags of popcorn, taking a seat on the couch and already scarfing down.

“Slow down, you nutcase,” Mark frowned playfully, putting the movie in and starting it. He took his spot beside his roommate and grabbed the other bag Michael had been holding before he decided to start chowing down on that one too.

The beginning credits hadn’t even started yet and Michael already had to get up with an empty popcorn bag to make more. Mark rolled his eyes when he heard the man mumbling about needing bigger popcorn bags.

 

↞ ♡ ↠

 

Mark woke with a start, having felt someone shake him. He cracked his eyes open and moved away whatever he was sleeping on. 

He saw the third movie had already been playing and they were halfway through. It wasn’t a particularly scary part, so Mark wasn’t too bothered to be woken up.

“Thanks for slobbering on my shirt,” Michael grumbled. “I got a reply earlier and were going to be having an interview later today.”

“For what?” Mark asked, yawning and stretching out his sleep. “At least you were comfortable,” he added quietly.

“For… for the night shift. Last night I emailed the owner of Freddy’s to see if he’d hire us both.”

“Oh yeah…” Mark groaned, dropping his arms. “Great okay. When are we going?”

“In a couple hours.”

“What time is it?!”

“Uh…” Michael seemed to be in deep thought for a second before shrugging and checking his phone. “It’s 2.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “Great.”

The two roommates spent the next hour getting ready before heading out to the car. Mark wore a dark button up shirt and jeans while he combed his hair back Michael grabbed Mike’s brown wig and blue contacts and wore that same polo and jeans as he did yesterday. Although he had on some gray jacket that made him look like some junkie.

“Just tell me the directions, okay, Mike?” Mark said, looking over at his roommate who nodded, blue eyes looking out the passenger window.

“So…” Mark started, turning a right on an intersection once instructed. “I honestly never thought I’d come back here. What was it like for you?” He glanced over at Mike.

“We don’t really remember too much,” Mike said, he wasn’t stuttering like usual so he had to be in deep thought. “I think we all repressed those memories.”

“Right.” Mark wouldn’t be surprised, Michael’s family was rooted to Freddy’s so it wouldn’t be too crazy if at least one of the members was dragged back into its conspiracies. He just wished his roommate didn’t have to drag him with.

They pulled up into the parking lot of the building they’d be interviewed at. It looked almost run down, but still in tact. It was Sunday so it was probably closed since there was no cars besides like… one or two. Maybe the owner would be here already. They are an hour early. Maybe they shouldn’t have come so quickly.

“Is… is that him?” Mike asked when he saw the front door open and an older man walk out and over to the bench on the sidewalk. He sat down and grabbed his phone from one of his pockets.

Something in the man struck Mike as familiar, but a buzzing noise in his head disturbed whatever thought he was having.

“Maybe,” Mark mumbled. “Should we get out or wait a bit?”

Mike sat there for a second, most likely contemplating as he stared at the man outside the pizzeria. “I’m getting out,” he said, opening the door and jumping out.

“God… dammit.” Mark turned the car off and jumped out as well, locking the doors before placing his keys in his pocket and jogging after Mike. “Thanks for the warning.”

They reached the man on the bench who looked up at them with light blue eyes. He combed his nails through his short, dirty blond hair. “Evening,” he smiled kindly, standing from the bench.

He stuck out his hand and Mike quickly took it, shaking it a bit too enthusiastically. He was always giddy when nervous. “Evening,” he smiled as well, “it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Emily.”


	3. Chapter 3

Make sure to check out my [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/) for my artwork of this fic and other fnaf stuff!

* * *

“They look worn down,” Mark mumbled, staring up at the three animatronics on the stage. He was thanking whatever god was out there that they did this during the day.

Their interview just consisted of “Mr.Emily” asking Mark whether or not he really had medical experience. Which he does actually. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to stay with Mike if he hadn’t had any previous experience. He also asked the two if they ever had any self-defense classes.

Surprisingly, Mike said yes.

“Yeah…” Mr.Emily mumbled back. “They had newer models actually, but that didn’t go so well. The children loved them but… they didn’t exactly like the adults.”

“Oh,” Mike mumbled, staring at Bonnie. The large purple rabbit held his guitar. He seemed to be in mid-strum, possibly having been shut off during a song.

“You doing okay?” Mark asked, placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Mike replied, “just thinking.”

Mr.Emily cleared his throat, he had moved a bit away while Mike had zoned out. He seemed to be a little nervous, too. “My only concern is that the original creator programmed them to be able to move around at night,” he explained, “this is to keep their servos from locking up during the day, especially since they’re pretty old already. But while in the office, if one ever comes up to the doors just close them. There’s a keyboard by the monitors that should be hooked up to the door. I can show you the keys and write them down on a sticky when we get there.”

“Sounds fun,” Mike mumbled, his voice a bit lower than it was a second ago. He seemed to have caught himself quickly when Mr.Emily glanced at him worriedly. “Sore throat,” Mike cleared his throat as he said so.

“And over here is the storage room. Most technicians work here if they’re needed,” Mr.Emily started again, leading to an employee’s only door. “Then over here—” he started, leading the roommates across the room, “—is Pirate’s cove. No one comes over here much anymore ‘less the place is packed.”

“Yah,” Mark huffed, “even I don’t remember this.”

Mike snorted in front of him.

Mr.Emily continued. “Foxy was a bit glitchy when he was being made. After a few days we decided to not let him out unless it was night. He’s dangerous.”

“Y’all couldn’t bring him back to work on him?” A southern accent broke out from Mike, obviously upset.

God, these guys are really pushing it.

“Can’t. It’s not safe to be around him sometimes,” Mr.Emily shrugged uselessly. “Anyway…” he started walking again. “This is where your office is.” He led the two down a long hallway and they saw there was an identical one down the dining area. “It’s cramped but I’m sure you two will be fine.”

The three squeezed in, there could be just enough room for maybe another person. So yeah, they should be fine. Unless one of Mike’s friends was claustrophobic or something.

Mr.Emily placed a bright pink sticky note on one of the monitors on the desk. The note had his neat handwriting in black ink that said what key does what.

Marked stepped forward and pressed the A key and the left door shut close with a bang. “Huh,” he hummed and pressed it again and it slid open with a hiss on command. He pressed the D key and the same thing happened, this time to the right door. He opened the door.

Mike pressed the S key and all seven monitors turned on. The monitors showed the main stage, the audience area/dining room by the main stage, pirate's cove, the hallway to the left, the hallway to the right, and the storage closet. The seventh monitor was just a black screen, occasionally buzzing with some static.

“That’s the kitchen. I haven’t had the time to fix it,” Mr.Emily said. “Again.”

“Couldn’t you have fixed it today?” Mark asked, taking his eyes off the seven screens.

“Every time I or someone fixes it, it breaks the following night.” He scoffed, crossing his arms, “I think Chica keeps messing with it. Whatever her problem is.”

“S-so they’re sentient?” Mike asked, visibly shrinking in fear.

Mr.Emily shrugged. “I guess to an extent. I’d have to look back at their programming and memory files tonight when I get home.”

“So I guess we start Monday night?” Mark asked, getting to the point. “Is there anything else we should know about before we leave?”

“Monday night, I prefer you to arrive here at eight so you can get accustomed to the place and it’s visitors just in case there’s any need for you to be there during the day,” Mr.Emily replied, “and no. But if you have any questions just text or call me. I’ll try my best to get back to you when I can.”

The two men nodded and followed Mr.Emily out of the building, avoiding looking at the glass eyes of the animatronics. He locked the front doors behind the two men.

“T-thank you for this opportunity, Mr.Emily,” Mike said with a small smile.

Mike went to shake the older man’s hand and as he grabbed said hand he was suddenly tugged into his direction. The grip on Mike’s hand could’ve broken a bone it was so strong.

He was forced to stare into Mr.Emily’s gray-blue eyes. He had a stone cold, serious expression. “I don’t know what you and your friend plan on doing, _Michael_ ,” he said, his voice low and dark as he stared hard into his blue eyes. “But I assure you that you should never dig yourself in such a deep, deep grave such as the history of these buildings. You will never return if you do. And I won’t come and dig you or your friend out of the mess you end up in. You got that?”

“Y-y-yes sir,” Mike shrunk down, swallowing down in fear as he stared up at the older man who had the killer vice on his right hand.

“Good,” Mr.Emily cleared his throat. He stood up straight and released Mike’s hand who immediately went to rub at the already bruising skin. Mr.Emily raised his voice for Mark to hear, “I look forward to seeing both of you tomorrow evening.”

Mike took a few steps back to stand beside his roommate when Mr.Emily nodded to them and walked off into the parking lot. He jumped in a big black pickup truck and started it. It rumbled in the parking lot as he drove away.

“What the fuck was that, Mike?” Mark asked, looking at his roommate.

He took off the brown wig and looked up at Mark with his sparkling blue eyes. _“He knows us…”_ he whispered as quietly as he could, almost as if Mr.Emily could hear them down the road.


	4. Chapter 4

Make sure to check out [my DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/) for my artwork of this fic and other [fnaf stuff](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/gallery/66839669/FNAF)!

* * *

 

The ride home that day was mostly silent aside from Michael grunting when he nearly dropped one of his contacts.

“So… wanna go somewhere to eat?” Mark asked, feeling a little snackish. All he ate was that popcorn last night and even then he was pretty sure he passed out before he finished the bag. Maybe Michael finished it for him.

All he knew right now was that he was famished. Where’s a horse when you need one?

“I’m fine with that.”

“Just you, Michael,” Mark frowned. “I like Mike and all, but I just wanna talk to you. I have… a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, Yeah,” Michael groaned. “We got it.”

Mark had noticed a while ago that Michael was the only one that says “I” or “me”. It was weird when he said “we,” but he brushed it off as one of the alters of his. Alter? Friend? What does Michael call them again?

He wondered which one it was.

“Turn right.”

“Thank you,” Mark huffed and did so.

They arrived at one of their favorite restaurants and parked, quickly walking in before the line got too long. It was a popular place, which was understandable for its good quality food.

Thankfully, they arrived at the right time as there was already a table open for them. As they took their seat, a waitress walked by and took their orders.

“So what did you have to ask me?” Michael asked when the waitress left. “Couldn’t we have done this at home?”

“We could’ve, but I can’t survive solely on popcorn like you can,” Mark frowned.

Michael snorted.

The waitress returned with their drinks and when she left Mark started. “What is it you’re looking for? And what the hell was Mr.Emily doing earlier? What did we do to tick him off like that?”

“I’m not sure,” Michael responded. His voice which is usually loud and angry was now quiet and passive. “Something in my gut has just been pulling me towards theories and conclusions. Something in my head has just been… _scratching_ at the edges of my brain and it won’t go away.”

“ _What the fuck…_ ” Mark mumbled under his breath. He didn’t really know what to say about… _that_. Whatever that was. Sure Michael is a bit odd but he never voiced out something like that.

“We’re confused,” Michael looked up, his silver eyes reflecting something Mark has never seen in them before. It was definitely something he’s only seen in Mike. Michael scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. “We have so many questions. None of them answered. We try to remember but every time we do—”

The waitress walked up with their food, smiling as she set the plates down in front of them before leaving them in peace again.

“… every time we try to remember something from when we were little, the scratching comes back. There’s noise in the back of my head. It’s like someone erased something from my memory, or… like if my brain were a book — the only copy of such book — and pages were torn out and burned. I can’t recover those pages. I can’t recover my memories…” Michael let out a shaky breath, laying his head down in his arms as they were crossed on the table.

“I’m sorry… Michael…” Mark mumbled and placed a hand on one of his roommate's arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Michael said, his voice muffled in his arms. “We dragged you into this. We shouldn’t have. We should’ve just… stopped where it started.”

“Where did it start?”

“I’m not sure,” Michael said, raising his head from the table. He moved the plate away from him, obviously not planning on eating it anytime soon.

“Maybe we can find someone who knows,” Mark suggested, “There’s gotta be someone old enough to remember everything.”

“Maybe. Unless the same thing happened to them.”

“What about Mr.Emily?” Mark asked, “What did he say to you?”

“He doesn’t want us to go any further,” Michael replied. “He wants us to keep our noses out of Freddy’s ass.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “That’s funny, Michael, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to keep going anyway.”

“Of course I will,” Michael narrowed his eyes, “Mr.Emily thinks we’re gonna stay out of it. He’s thinking that even if we work there then we’re not going to dig a little further for answers.”

“You sure?” Mark asked. “Maybe he’s just warning you. Actually he’s the only person who knows about this. Are you sure he won’t answer if we just ask?”

Michael scoffed and took a sip from his water. Mark slowly picked at his food while they stayed there. He thought a lot about what Mr.Emily wanted from them or even what Michael was looking for. It was sort of ridiculous that Michael had no idea. He was pretty sure, though, that the man was always like that anyway. He always went by gut instinct, always saying it was just a family thing.

That’s Michael’s excuse for everything.

_It’s just a family thing._

Well it probably was, but to what extent was it?

The waitress walked up with a couple drinks, setting them down at the table. “The man at the bar bought these for you,” she said, “and got a note for you.” She set down a small piece of paper by Michael who gave her a very serious, crazy-eyed, stare like he usually does when strangers talk to him. She cleared her throat and left quickly, most likely scared of him.

Mark tried looking at the bar to see if he can spot whatever sicko gave them these drinks. He couldn’t find any obvious suspects.

“At least he knows I don’t drink,” Michael said, sipping at his water again and moving the new glass closer to him. It was probably more of a lemonade than anything alcoholic. He grabbed the paper and his frown deepened as he read it. “Asshole,” he growled to himself and crumpled the small note, flicking the ball of paper at Mark. The other man grunted when he was hit in the face by it, earning a quick laugh from his roommate.

“What’d it say?” Mark asked.

“Just had some guy’s number on it,” Michael rolled his eyes, drinking the last bit of his drink.

“Wasn’t some guy at college hitting on you?” Mark chuckled.

Michael nodded with a groan. “I think he heard from one of my classmates that I was sorta into guys.”

“We should probably ask the waitress when she comes by for the check,” Mark suggested with a small shrug. He found the crumpled paper and flattened it out. “Maybe we can continue our search when we get home.”

He sneered when he saw the messy and rushed handwriting.

 

_Call me XOXO <3 _

then a phone number underneath.

 

“Gross,” he furrowed his brows and turned the paper into a ball again before dropping it in his drink. He didn’t want to risk anything and it was stupid Michael didn’t even consider the thought that maybe his drink was drugged.

Then again he had the waitress bring it. Maybe it was fine?

Mark waved the waitress over when she came by and asked for the check. It took her a couple minutes but returned with what he asked for and they paid whatever they needed to. They even split the check because Michael insisted on paying.

 

**↞ ♡ ↠**

 

When they arrived home, Michael immediately went to the computer and logged in. Mark on the other hand left to his room and just… passed out. He didn’t even give himself time to think.

Michael did as much research as he could. He searched up the building, the name, even Mr.Emily’s info. He didn’t find much because a lot of people had _Emily_ as their last name. Maybe he should’ve asked what his first name was.

He looked back at Freddy’s history, seeing the stories and rumors of what happened behind its doors so many years ago.

Child death was probably the main one. Maybe a few guards or other adults got hurt from the animatronics, but that was mainly because the adults were stupid and hurt a child (whether or not on accident) or even got too close to the robots themselves.

He didn’t really find much for a good few minutes. It’s ridiculous that, despite how the place still exists, Freddy’s is pretty much hidden.

Actually it’s stupid and borderline retarded.

He typed a new phrase in the search engine. _Original owner of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria_. Not a lot of links showed up that he didn’t already click on, but there was a new one. A couple new ones actually.

One led to a set of scanned files (that were also retyped just in case photos were disabled on the device). The files were pieces of paper with handwriting on it, the writing itself wasn’t messy but still seemed rushed. With the darkness of the writing it was most likely written in ink. What was written was just a bunch of letters and numbers, didn’t really make too much sense, but he bookmarked the page anyway. For later encryption.

He went back to the search results and clicked on the next blue link. The link led to a video and he nearly screamed. He probably would’ve if Mark was still awake.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finds and watches a couple videos in hopes of revealing the secrets that had been erased from his mind.

**I apologize for being late on posting. I didn't have time over the weekend to write so I decided not to post until I had at least a couple extra chapters written. So far the longest one is chapter 8,. Let's hope the next chapters are good.**

**~~I also apologize for an extremely short chapter.~~ **

**Please comment, leave kudos,  bookmark, subscribe to me if you like this so far! Make sure to leave feedback, it's extremely helpful and motivates me and tells me what I'm doing wrong/right.**

* * *

 

**Make sure to check out[my DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/) for my artwork of this fic and other fnaf stuff!**

 

* * *

_“Boo!” A man popped up on screen. His hair is dirty blonde and slicked back neatly and his big eyes were a shining silver-blue. He laughed and settled in a seat by the camera that had been situated on a desk. “Oh my god… that’s really close,” he mumbled to himself and seemed to scoot the camera backwards so his face was in-frame._

_He waved kindly, seeming like the happiest person in the world with his bright smile. Obviously, this man is hiding some dark stuff beneath such a bright and shiny facade._

_“Some of you weirdos may be wondering why I’m_ so _happy…” he started, mocking a careless shug. “I just got news that my best friend just survived a dangerous disease. It’s actually new??” He sat there and thought for a bit. “I have no idea. I think it was a new cancer or something. But like…” he took a deep breath, “I dunno what I’d do if he passed.”_

_He seemed to be in deep thought, his light blue eyes seeming to be coated suddenly in wetness._

_“I really don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”_

_He let out a pained laugh, “But now it’s fine! He’s okay and up and running. He’ll be coming home tomorrow after being in the hospital for… a while.” He shrugged again and kept his eyes away from the camera. “I-I think they kept them there since it was so new. Maybe they just wanted to see what it does. It was a miracle he even survived.”_

_He finally looked back at the camera, his genuine smile returning. “Anyway, gotta go. I need to clean up the house.”_

The video shut off and a new one played.

_The camera was focused on the interior of the house, whereas the last one had been in what looked like a garage. The surrounding area was the foyer. It was big actually. The living room to the right with a tan sofa, matching recliner, dark hardwood floor, a white rug with black, blue, and gray patterns with white tassels at the end, a white wall-shelf to the right wall with various books and movies and props in it, a glass coffee table placed in the middle of everything, and even a flat screen on another coffee table a few feet from it. On another wall is a glass door leading to the backyard, gray curtains covering most of it. Between the fabric it was obvious it was morning._

_To the left of that is a set of stairs, most likely leading to bedrooms on the second floor. Passed that is a kitchen, the dark hardwood floor turning into white tiles. The bar separating the living room from the kitchen was a simple counter with a metal top. It had black bar stools underneath it. The counter lined the wall, devices lined up on them beside the sink and fridge._

_A man stood by the sink, seeming to be washing dishes and putting them away. The man is wearing black, high-waisted, skinny jeans and a white sweater tucked in them. His pale skin indicated that he almost rarely went outside._

_What was odd about him were his legs. They were a jumble of metal framework and muscle tissue. Some wires even poked out of the muscle and wrapped around the scrappy framework. The feet had five toes, but one was built in the back in both feet that raised the heel high like an animal’s. It shifted whenever he moved a leg, seeming to be built mainly for support. Although it didn’t look too stable._

_It was definitely something meant for temporary use._

_“And here we have…” the man behind the camera, probably the one from the previous video, started with a low voice. He began to creep forward and towards the kitchen, keeping the camera on the man in the room. “A wild William in his natural habitat — the kitchen.”_

_The man paused his cleaning after hearing his name before he continued to clean more dishes._

_“And… here he is. choosing… his next prey. Who… will he choose next?” He paused and waited and gasped lightly when William picked up a plate. “And there we have it! The predator found his prey and… and he began to play with it like a child. A giant child he is.”_

_William turned his head finally, a big smirk pulling on his lips. “Henry, Shut up.”_

_The video was cut and restarted by the bar. William was still cleaning, but there were less dishes than before._

_“Sorry. I didn’t have a lot of time to clean yesterday,” Henry said, dropping the commentary act from earlier. “But I’m glad you’re back nonetheless.”_

_The other man smiled, turning off the sink and putting away the last plate. He walked over to the camera, not bothering to bend over for him to be in view. The only thing visible was his torso and arms that rested on the metal surface. “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled, “I’m glad I’m back, too. Does Michael know?”_

“I texted him but he hasn’t responded back. I think he has a class,” Henry replied behind the camera.

_“That’s fine. I’m afraid he doesn’t want anything to do with me—”_

The video was ended there and Michael didn’t bother to start up another one after hearing that. His head hurt too much.

“ _What the hell…_ ” Michael groaned and laid his head down on the desk. Whatever he watched… he wasn’t expecting it.

The noises came back. It sounded like short nails picking at a popcorn ceiling. Tiny sharp claws scratching at the inside of a wall. It was painful but the pain was dull and the noise was all he could hear. With his shut eyes, it was the only noise he would hear in his dreams.

Suddenly he was being shook. Maybe a bit too violently.

He lifted his head up from his arms and looked over his shoulder. Mark stood there, his hands on both of Michael’s shoulders with his brown eyes staring worriedly at his face, trying to spot anything that would tell him how to say what he was about to.

“You okay, buddy?” He asked instead, seeing the confused glare he was receiving from his silver-eyed friend.

“I found some stuff you might wanna watch.” Michael said quietly. “I… it might answer quite a bit. And it certainly answered a few things already.” He winced a little at his throbbing head. _“Please stop…”_ he mumbled to himself and placed a hand at the back of his head to ease the dull pain.

“As much as I’m interested in what you found, we need to get ready for tonight,” Mark said. “Don’t wanna upset Mr.Emily.”

“Yeah.” Michael slowly stood from the desk chair and walked to his room, most likely to get ready. Mark was concerned for him, but he knew he’d be fine either way.

Mark had already taken a shower and changed into his new uniform, so he sat down in the desk chair and played the last couple videos Michael had been watching.

He didn’t think Mr.Emily was that happy before… _before now_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The roommates work at their first shift at Freddy's.  
> Mike happens to be a wuss,

**Make sure to check out[my DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/aeregele/) for my artwork of this fic and other fnaf stuff!**

* * *

 

“Evening, Boys!” Mr.Emily smiled with a small wave once Mike and Mark entered the restaurant. Children were running around while parents sat at tables or stood in corners scrutinizing them for being too crazy. Mark noticed the three main robots — Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica — were playing a song and dancing and a good portion of children were sitting by the stage watching and cheering. “Glad to see you two on time,” Mr.Emily said when the roommates neared him.

The three stood around and talked, almost like the day before never happened (ya know, when the owner had threatened Mike).  

Mike himself didn't say much, he was too nervous to speak. Or maybe too scared. Mark was worried for him and wondered why Mr.Emily knowing Michael made everything worse.

As the day went on, more and more families left to Mark’s relief. He wasn’t a fan of so many people in one place so part of him was glad they had the night shift.

“Anyway,” Mr.Emily started with a shrug. “Lock the doors, check the camera, make sure not to use too much power, close the doors when the robots visit (if they do), and also when you run out of power just go into the basement and flip the breaker switch back on. It turns off on its own after a certain amount of power is used at night. We do this to conserve power so we don’t have to pay so much for the electricity bill. But if it does occur, that part of the bill will be yours to pay.”

“Got it,” Mark muttered and Mike nodded.

“Great!” Mr.Emily clapped his hands with a big smile, something that caused Mike to wince and hold a hand to the back of his head. Mr.Emily’s smile dropped at that. “If anything happens to you… _M-Mike_ … don’t be afraid to go to the hospital.”

Mike glared at him with eyes only Michael could have, but the contacts that changed their color hid their usual dead appearance.

Mr.Emily snorted. “Anyway, see y’all tomorrow. Remember: don’t run out of power. Your shift starts at 12 and ends at 6.” He then left the building, walking over to his pickup and leaving. There was a faint rumbling from the big truck that faded as he left the area.

“I think our boss is a redneck,” Mark said, leading Mike to their office.

Mike just snorted. “I think he’s far from it.”

“He does look like he’s from the north.”

“Does he?”

They entered the office, there now being two office chairs instead of one like yesterday. _Thank God_. Mark wasn’t about to sit on the floor.

Although beneath the desk seemed like a good idea.

The two took their seats, Mike being the one to take the keyboard. So Mark assumed himself the job of watching the monitors whenever they were turned on. Which they weren’t.

“Wonder when they start moving,” Mark said. On que Mike clicked a key and the monitors turned on. There was a clock beneath each monitor screen. 11:57.

Mark rolled his eyes and sat back, grabbing his phone from his pocket and going through a feed on one of his dumb social media apps.

“I wonder if we come here early we can hang in here and watch more of those videos,” Mike mumbled, mostly to himself.

“I’d rather do it at home. Can’t risk Mr.Emily walking in, especially since he doesn’t want us digging around.”

“Yeah,” Mike mumbled and switched the monitors off. He wondered if that switched off the cameras, too.

Mark perked up, straining his ears when he heard a noise outside the office. “What time is it?” He whispered, despite just being on his phone.

Mike turned the monitors on. “ _But you have a…_ whatever. It’s 12:05.”

“Michael, shut up.”

Mike glared at him, his eyes shining with Michael’s constant judgement. And also with the light of the screens in front of him.

“Hey, wait look,” Mark said, pointing at the top monitor — the main stage. “Bonnie’s moving.”

“Oh.” Mike didn’t say much else. Mark could tell he was a bit uncomfortable knowing the robots really do move. Or maybe he was just thinking again. Why did Mike like to keep everything hidden?

At least Michael spewed everything out of spite.

They watched as Bonnie stepped off the stage effortlessly, having put down his guitar on the floor beside Freddy. He stood there, scanning the room. The lights from his eyes working like a car’s headlights as they lit up the room while he looked side-to-side. The light disappeared occasionally for very short seconds when he blinked.

_Or was Bonnie a she?_

“Turn the monitors off,” Mark said. Mike did so and all the screens went black.

“Why?” Mike asked, staring at Mark with crazy eyes.

“First off, _Michael_. This is Mike’s job.”

“Yeah, but do you realize how paranoid he is??” Michael shot back, his eyes narrowing. “He can’t even function around _Mr.Emily—”_ he threw up air quotes at the name, “—without having a panic attack after watching two videos. _Two videos!_ Just two. _Two_. Just—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it!” Mark groaned, throwing his arms up and scooting away from his roommate. Sometimes Michael was a bit too crazy. “If Mike is too much of a wuss to look at monitors then fine whatever. Just… don’t yell at me.”

Michael snorted. He didn’t bother with his contacts, but he took the wig off and set it by one of the monitors.

“If you forget that hairball Mr.Emily will kill you.”

“He couldn’t, even if he tried. He knows that,” Michael said.

“I don’t know what that means, but I assume you just think you’re a badass that can survive a giant, buff redneck,” Mark said with a short laugh, “I’m pretty sure that guy can tear someone to shreds.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Michael narrowed his eyes.

“Turn the monitors on,” Mark said, ignoring Michael’s ignorance.

Michael did so and watched all the cameras. “Where’s Bonnie?” Mark asked, nervous. He grabbed his flashlight and pointed it to his right, where his door was. There was nothing in the doorway or even the hallway when he got up to check, shining the light down the dark corridor.

“FUCK!” Michael shouted in the room and the noise of the door sliding closed echoed in the hallways.

Mark jumped back in the small room, turning off his flashlight. “Was that him?” He asked, rushing to his roommate to hopefully calm him down by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Michael mumbled and watched the window by the door. There was a visible shadow casted on the window, but nothing else could be seen.

“Not such a tough guy now are ya?”

Michael swiveled around and punched him in the arm, earning a yelp from his injured roommate.

“Yo! Watch it! Ya coulda broke my arm!” He hissed, rubbing where he had been injured.


	7. Chapter 7

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* * *

 

_“Why are you filming in a restaurant?”_ _The man asked. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and aviator sunglasses. The lights over his head reflected off the sunglasses, almost blocking their reflection of the man filming him._

_“Why not?” The man behind the camera asked. He chuckled a little when the one with the sunglasses set down his drink._

_“It’s weird. People will think we’re dating.”_

_“We’re not?”_

_The other one didn’t say anything, just sat there and stared at the man behind the camera._

_“Fuck you, Henry,” he frowned. His lips and furrowed eyebrows being the only expression visible on his face._

_“I know you would.”_

The video was cut off before the other man had a chance to respond.

_“Dad, please,” a boy said. His hair was cut short and he wore a simple black t-shirt and gray joggers. His eyes were being covered by his father’s hands as he was being led to a door off the kitchen. He attempted a few times to remove his father’s hands, but they were only (gently) swatted away by the man at the camera._

_By now it’s obvious the cameraman was named_ Henry Emily _. He seemed very enthusiastic for being the man he is now._

_“Henry, open the door,” the father said, stepping aside to let Henry by. He pulled his son with him, his hands still covering his eyes. The boy didn’t argue anymore as he just crossed his arms and let his dad lead him through the door to the garage._

_In the garage was a generic workshop. Desks and even a set of lockers were lined on the wall. Shelves of gadgets and tools hung on the walls as well by screws that were drilled in. In the middle of a room was a large white mannequin. It was very clean and shiny, the little light in the garage reflecting off of every surface of the plastic figure. The joints were an unknown pitch black material. The white parts of the body just seemed to be an outer segmented shell._

_“You ready?” The father asked, looking over his shoulder with a mischievous glitter in his silver eyes. The camera shook slightly as Henry chuckled._

_“I feel so bad,” Henry mumbled, earning a quick, playful, glare from the other man._

_“I heard that. And now I’m concerned,” the son said and grabbed his father’s hands and removed them from his face. Not long after his eyes were uncovered and he saw the mannequin. He then took his father’s hands and placed them back over his eyes. “I hate you so much.”_

_His father laughed lightly. “Aw, c'mon, Mikey!” He smiled, “it’s not_ that _bad!”_

_“You know I hate mannequins!” The son shouted._

_“He’s not a mannequin!” The father laughed back, trying to take his hands back. He wasn’t trying very hard, especially since he seemed to be getting a kick out of this._

_“Look at it, Dad! Of course it’s a mannequin!”_

_“No no! You don’t get it. He wasn’t built to be a mannequin!” He laughed._

_“Then what is he?”_

_“He’s a husk,” The father said, finally being able to take his hands away. He placed them on his son’s shoulders to keep in him place._

_The son sighed. “So?” It took him everything to even glance at the mannequin. He kept his eyes off of it as much as he could, occasionally throwing an annoyed glance at his dad or Henry with his metallic eyes._

_“He’s not harmful at all. He’s meant to travel and capture lost spirits in hopes of setting them free safely instead of letting them wander for eternity,” The father smiled and released his son’s shoulders, stepping closer to the blank robot._

The video stopped. Not because it was cut off, but because Michael couldn’t continue to watch it. Every time he looked at the son his mind began to swim. His vision became covered in static and that scratching came back. _God, that horrible scratching._

Mark beside him put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles in it to hopefully calm his roommate who just stared at the keyboard.

“We need to keep watching these but they hurt,” he mumbled to himself.

“Why do we need these anyway?” Mark asked. He new it might answer something but he wasn’t sure what Michael was looking for in it.

“It might tell me why I don’t remember anything,” Michael replied. “Or what happened to my dad. Or why I always have this hatred for him.”

“If that’s him, he doesn’t seem like a horrible person.”

“He took acting classes in high school and college.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Right. ‘Least you remember that.”

Michael shot him a quick glare.

“You think there’s still officers that know what happened?” Mark asked, grabbing the computer’s keyboard and typing in a new search bar.

“If they do they’d probably arrest me.”

Mark paused… “Right. I don’t know why but, I guess they would.”

“If they can’t find my father, why wouldn’t they just take me instead,” Michael explained, “technically if he’s missing for a certain amount of time then they can consider him dead. Then it’s my responsibility. I have his inheritance because I’m his eldest son and god knows what happened to my siblings.”

“How long has he been missing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Does mike not like him?” Mark asked after a bout of silence.

The question seemed to catch Michael off guard, not having expected Mark to actually be interested in Mike or anyone else.

“Mike likes everyone. But lately I think he’s been having second thoughts,” Michael shrugged, his face still. He didn’t show much emotion a lot and even now he just seemed void of it.

“What… what about the others?”

“They hate him.”

“I feel like their hatred towards your father is clouding your mind.”

“What are you my therapist now?” Michael shouted, moving to hit Mark but stopped when he flinched. “Sorry,” he said, placing his hand in his lap.

“Is your therapist trying to block _this_ from you?” Mark asked, motioning for the computer screen where the video had been paused. He had given up on searching for what he was looking for, forgetting what it was exactly.

“I dunno. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“When’s your next meeting with… him? Her?”

“They.”

“When is your next meeting with them?” Mark correctly himself.

“Supposedly tomorrow at 5. I have to email Mr.Emily about possible time conflicts.”

“Okay. You do that now. Then go to bed. I wanna talk to your therapist.”

Michael snatched the keyboard back from his roommate and started typing up an elaborate email. It didn’t even have to be that much. Just a _“hey, Mr.Emily! I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow at 5PM so I might not be able to make it to the building at a certain time before”_ would be perfectly fine.

_No_. Michael always had to make long-winded replies, no matter what it was. Maybe it was just everyone wanting their opinion out there.

“I think I need to start reading through your emails before you send them,” Mark said skeptically.

“If you want,” Michael shrugged and scooted back. “I’m going to bed.” He stood and left the living room to entered his own, shutting his door and locking it with a click.

Mark started to read the email. It was more neat than he expected and also a lot shorter than usual.

> _Evening, Mr.Emily._
> 
> _I have an appointment with my therapist at 5pm tomorrow and due to recent events I feel I will be there for an extended period of time. I apologize if we end up late tomorrow, but I’m sure we’ll be able to arrive before our shift starts._
> 
> _~ Mike Schmidt_
> 
> _P.S. fuck you._

He deleted the last part and sent the email.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark finally gets to meet Michael's therapist, and as usual he's skeptical.
> 
> (lowkey almost posted the wrong chapter. Y'all would've been so confused)

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* * *

 “Good Evening, Michael! How are you today?” Michael’s therapist, Jess, asked. They stepped aside to let Michael through and gasped when they saw he had company. “Oh, hello! I wasn’t expecting two people today.”

“I’m fine. This is Mark. He’s just going to hang out because he’s suspicious,” Michael explained flatly, waving towards Mark who started exploring the room on his own.

“Right… okay,” they mumbled, closing the door once Michael took a seat on the sofa on one side of a coffee table in the middle of the room. “Well… I guess I’m fine with that. Is there anything you need to know in particular, Mark?”

Mark hummed and walked over to his roommate, sitting down beside him and flipping through a large book. “I just want to know what you two talk about regularly in here,” he said, not looking up at the redhead in front of him.

They sighed. “That’s fine, just don’t interrupt unless it’s important.”

Mark only hummed, flipping through the book mindlessly.

“So, Michael,” They started, “How was your week?”

“Fine. It could’ve been better, to be honest,” he replied. “Mark recently quit his job and I recently was hired into one.”

“Really?” They seemed to smile, but it didn’t reach their green eyes. “Is the job okay? It’s not too dangerous is it?”

Mark looked up and at Michael before snorting and looking back down at the book.

“Not yet. I recently got the job at Freddy’s —”

“I told you not to go there!” Jess suddenly shouted, her eyes staring hard at her patient. Mark had jumped in his seat at their sudden outburst. “I told you it’d be too dangerous! _What if something happens to you?_ ”

“Then let it happen,” Michael said, his calm face unchanging. It irked Mark when he glanced at him. Michael is usually an upset guy who yells at anyone who disturbs him (although he usually has good intentions, he just never knows how to display it properly at times without Mike).

The therapist calmed down quickly, staring at Michael. The silence disturbed Mark a bit so he closed his book and watched. _Do they know?_

“Michael I just don’t want you to get hurt. My job is to make sure your brain doesn’t fail on anyone,” they explained. “I was hired to make sure nothing like that happened. So don’t dig too fast if you’re there for answers.”

There was long pause between the two, almost convincing Mark that the world had paused around them until Michael nodded. He could see Michael had no care for his own safety. He just wants to know. He has the right to know.

“You haven’t been in too much pain lately, have you?” They asked, their frown mocking concern. To mark, all the expressions they were making seemed fake. Nothing ever properly reached their eyes. In fact, their lime green eyes seemed to be blank and void of any emotion. They were glossy, almost like the robots at the restaurant.

Mark stood up suddenly, causing the two other people in the room to watch him wearily. “Michael, can I talk to you outside for a sec?” he asked, placing a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“...  sure,” Michael nodded and stood, barely casting a glance at the silent redhead when following his friend out of the room. When they closed the door behind them, Michael shot him a glare. “ _What?_ ”

“I’m just … a bit confused,” Mark said, taken back by Michael's sudden snappy attitude. “Their expressions are all wrong and… why were they so concerned about you getting a job at Freddy’s? To be honest, even Mr.Emily was more laid back than Jess was about it just now.”

“I know but they were the only person who would treat me,” Michael said, his voice hushed.

“ _Why?_ That’s so stupid!”

“I’m not sure. I think it just has to do with my family.”

“It’s always your family.”

Michael only shrugged, not looking at him anymore. Mark, though, was convinced there was something wrong. Michael never acts the way he did in there — lifeless.

“Mark,” Michael said, his voice barely a whisper. The man didn’t notice, so he slowly grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, staring up at him with wide silver eyes. “Mark, I don’t want them gone.” His eyes seemed to have a layer of wetness to them, but he never cried.

“What do you mean?” He asked, grabbing one of Michael’s hands in hopes to get him to release the vice grip on his clothing.

“Whenever I’m around that…” Michael sneered, “ _red-headed bitch_ , they’re snuffed out. I can’t hear them. My mind is clear. But I… I don’t want that…”

“Michael…” Mark started, but his voice fell when he noticed his friend stopped trying to keep the tears away as they started to roll down his cheeks. He’s never seen him cry. Not even Mike cried. He grabbed his shoulders gently and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around his distressed friend and roommate while he cried in his shoulder.

_“I don’t want them gone,”_ he sobbed.

Mark couldn’t say or do anything besides rubbing circles in his back. That’s all he could think of because he’s never encountered this problem with his friend. _Is this the shit he thinks of when he’s alone in his room? Or even when he comes back home from his “treatment”?_

_What kind of treatment is this place if all they do is make him miserable?_

Mark furrowed his brow when the door opened. “We’re leaving,” he said to Michael’s therapist before they even got to say anything. He turned and led Michael out of the building, not wanting either of them to step foot on the property again.

He helped Michael in the car as he just uselessly fell in the passenger seat. He sighed and closed the door, the dreadful pit in his stomach growing stronger. He didn’t know why.

He sat in the driver’s and watched as Michael attempted to make himself look a bit nicer. “If we need to go home for a bit, we can,” Mark suggested, “get you cleaned up and calm before we head to Freddy’s.”

“That’s fine,” Michael sniffled and leaned back, putting his seat-belt on and closing his eyes. His right hand clenched at the fabric of his gray shirt closer to his collarbone.

Mark ignored him the rest of the drive to their apartment. When they arrived, Mark went to jump out of the car until he saw that Michael had fallen asleep.

He groaned and turned in his seat, placing a hand on Michael’s shoulder and shaking him gently, saying his name. “Michael…” he frowned and shook him more. “Get up.”

Michael hummed and slowly cracked his eyes open, turning his attention to the man shaking him. “ _What?_ ” He asked tiredly.

“Did you not get any sleep last night?” Mark asked.

“No I did,” Michael replied, sitting up and unbuckling his seat-belt. “It was just a restless sleep.”

“Okay,” Mark mumbled. “Well, we’re here. I’m gonna check your email while you take a shower and get ready for work.”

“Alright,” Michael said and opened his door, jumping out of the car and closing it behind him.

As soon as they walked into their apartment, Michael went straight for his room. He only came back out when he had his work uniform in his hands. He disappeared into the bathroom and shortly after the sound of the shower starting resonated through the room.

Mark sat by the computer, turning the tv on for background noise. A show about ghosts and spirits was on.

He went into Michael’s email and saw he had a reply from the message he had sent last night about possibly arriving to work late. He was irked by the response.

 

 

> _Mark, I know you’ll be the one reading this_
> 
>  
> 
> _I got a call from Michael’s therapist. I don’t want him going back to them. There’s something wrong with them._
> 
> _Every time they speak a wave of nausea washes over me. I can only imagine what their effect on Michael is._
> 
> _I want you two here as soon as you can, I want to make sure Michael wasn’t injured in any way._
> 
>  
> 
> _~ Henry Emily._

 

 

Michael shuddered under the freezing water as it hit his face. He just wanted to wake up a bit more was all.

He leaned to the side against the wall, reaching up and adjusting the facet to face him more.

_Michael?_ He heard. _Are you okay?_ Of course it’d be mike.

“I’m fine,” Michael whispered to himself. He was glad the others didn’t bother him, but at the same time it made him feel a bit lonelier.

An aching came to his chest, causing him to lift a hand to where it was originating from. He could no longer feel the cold water, but he knew it was there.

He was overcome with a violent coughing fit. He barely had time to breath between his hacking, but whenever he got the chance he took in sharp deep breaths before letting it out in a violent fit.

He bent over towards the drain in the shower and let his body attempt to reject whatever was burning his chest.

He didn’t even care if he was going to run out of oxygen at this point. He just wanted whatever was poisoning him to leave.

He let out another strangled cough, spitting out thick, dark, fluid. His stomach twisted when he saw it, the cold water barely washing it away.

He let out a few weaker coughs, spitting out whatever was left in his throat and mouth.

_What was that!?! Michael are you okay?!_

_Holy shit… we ain’t gon’ die, right?”_

_…_

Michael turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel and drying off quickly. He could still feel the dull pain in his chest. At least there’s no scratching in his head, he was starting to get tired of that.

He got dressed, flattening out the uniform against his body before walking towards the mirror. He looked up and at his own reflection, dread immediately filling his stomach. He could never explain why he felt like that whenever he looked at himself, but all he felt was intense hatred. Maybe after watching those videos, he finally was able to connect a face to his father. Remembering the way he smiled.

He frowned, furrowing his brow. He may not have smiled a lot, but thinking about it, all he could remember about his father was he contagious smiling. That just made Michael hate him more.

“Do you think it’s worth to time to dress up, Mikey?” He asked in a hushed voice.

_He already knows, so there’s no point,_ Mike replied. _Besides it’s gonna be you dealing with those things anyway. I hate them. They sends shivers up my spine._

_You’re a wimp_.

_Shut up!_

“Don’t argue,” Michael snapped and dipped his head closer to the sink. He turned it on and gathered water in cupped hands and attempted to wash out his mouth. He could still feel and taste the thick burning fluid coating his teeth and gums.

He heard a short creak, causing him to jump slightly. He looked up at the bathroom mirror to see Mark opening the door and peeking in. “You okay?” He asked. “I heard you having a coughing fit. Was just checking on you.”

Michal stood up straight and Mark took that as a sign he could walk in. He opened the door fully and walked towards his friend who still leaned against the sink. Mark stopped, glancing at the mirror.

_He swore he saw something_.


	9. Chapter 9

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“Hey…” Mr.Emily started, noticing Michael didn’t bother dressing in-character today. “What’s up, kid?” He furrowed his brows, standing straight from the wall he had been leaning on. He had true worry in his eyes as he approached Michael and gently held him by his arms.

He ignored the running children that sped by the three. 

“Henry,” Mark started, wincing internally when Henry shot him a very quick and nasty glare. He must not like being called that anymore… “what’s wrong with his therapist? Who hired them?”

Henry stared at him, then sighed. He patted Michael’s arm, receiving a glare as well. “Follow me,” he said and started walking, leading them to the door that had the label:  _ EMPLOYEES ONLY _ . 

He opened the door for them and only closed it when he and everyone was inside the room. It looked like the parts and service room, but at the same time had a desk at the end and filing cabinets. The desk had a laptop computer on it, closed. 

“My partner, Michael’s father, had hired Jess,” Henry said, not leaving room for questions. “I’m telling you this because I’m tired of you digging around. So might as well help, right?”

“Oh… thanks?” Mark mumbled, watching as Michael walked over to the desk silently and sat on its surface next to him. 

“Michael,” Henry said, “tell me if your head starts to hurt again, or if there’s any issues anywhere else.”

“Actually,” Michael said, avoiding eye contact. “Earlier today before we came here I took a shower and kinda… threw up some weird shit.”

“Excuse me?” 

“He had a coughing fit an hour ago in the shower and spat out blank gunk. I think it’s still in the shower actually,” Mark explained, casting a worried glance at his friend. 

“I… I…” Henry seemed to be at a loss of words, opening and closing his mouth trying to get it out. All he could do was shut his eyes and think for a second. He opened them and stared at the roommates with a confused glare. 

“I don’t know what it was but I’d rather not think about it,” Michael mumbled, grabbing the fabric of his shirt near his chest and fiddling with it between his fingers. 

“There … there was an experiment your father had started, I’m sure you’ve seen it,” Henry said, watching Michael carefully. “I don’t know what the thing’s original intentions were, but he was excited when he finished it. It was meant to capture lost souls and release them peacefully, allowing them to move on. Sadly the first one he made started to malfunction and couldn’t properly release souls and they started attaching themselves to it. It sooner or later became a huge amalgamation of spirits and demons and…” he seemed to reel back a little at the thought of the experiment. “It’s a horrific sight… I’m not exactly sure what he did with it.”

Mark wasn’t sure if he should mention what he saw in the mirror. So he just shrugged it off as his imagination going wild when Michael was hurt. Maybe his brain was trying to make something up that would convince him someone had hurt Michael instead of it just happening by chance.  _ Sure, that made sense. _

Henry walked up to Michael and grabbed both his arms again. He lent down slightly and stared into the boy’s silver eyes with his own light blue ones. Mark watched wearily as the two said nothing. He could tell Michael wanted to snap at him though, but seeing as he couldn’t move in Henry’s grip he knew he probably shouldn’t. 

Henry let out a sigh and stood up, letting go of Michael who rubbed one of his arms. Henry had on a look of worry and confusion, his eyes still scanning the man. 

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”

“A lot of things,” Michael frowned, “you know why.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “It’s almost closing time. So just get ready for your shift, okay?” He turned and started out the door. “Call me if anyone gets hurt.”

“Not 911 or anything?” Mark asked skeptically. 

“If it has to do with Michael, no.” He then shut the door, leaving the roommates alone. 

“Wonder why…”

“Probably has to do with missing family members,” Michael responded a lot quicker than he usually would.

“Maybe.”

 

↞ ♡ ↠

 

The two friends took their seats in the office, just like the other night, once it had reached 12. Mark on the right and Michael on the left. Michael turned the monitors on and already Bonnie jumped down from the stage, exploring the audience area. 

“You sure Mike doesn’t wanna do this?” Mark smirked to himself. 

“We’re pretty sure,” Michael grumbled, staring at the monitors, most likely watching Bonnie as it walked gracefully around the dining room. 

“What’s our plan for the night?”

Michael turned the screens off and sighed. “I don’t know. Not die?”

 

“If Henry didn’t want you to get hurt then why did he let you take this job?” Mark asked quietly, listening for Bonnie. 

“I think part of him wanted me to start digging around, he just doesn’t want to admit it.” Michael huffed. “I think he was always like that, always giving hints and never telling you the straight truth. It’s like he’s trying to push us to the answers without deliberately doing it himself.”

“You’re family’s weird,” Mark snorted.

“We’re not related!” Michael yelled, punching Mark in the arm. 

“Ack!” Mark hissed, rubbing his arm. “Well how would I know? He acts like he’s practically your actual dad in those videos!”

Michael frowned, “He’s just weird. I’m pretty sure he was more of a godfather or something than an actual dad. I don’t even think he had kids.”

“You sure about that?” Mark asked while Michael turned the monitors back on. Bonnie had moved to the west hallway. “Have we not been seeing the same person? I mean… he looks like that generic buff white dad with the souped up pickup and—”

“Okay okay! I get it!” 

Michael turned his attention to the tv screens, seeing Bonnie had already moved down the hallway and was now visible in another camera. 

“H-hey Chica’s gone,” Mark said, getting up with a flashlight and checking the hallway. “I think she’s in the kitchen.”

“Henry did say she hangs out there,” Michael huffed when Mark sat down. 

After a few minutes of watching the cameras, Michael began to feel a pressure in his chest. He groaned, grabbing his chest with his right hand. 

“ _ Mikey _ …”

“Don’t call me that!” Michael shot his roommate a crazy-eyed glare, grabbing his chest harder as the pressure grew. 

“ _ Oh my god… _ ” Mark quickly leaned over towards Michael and pressed the A key, the left door closed with a hiss. He did the same to the right door before scooted his chair closer to his friend. “Michael?”

“ _ Shut up, ya asshole, _ ” Michael growled, bending over with a short and violent cough. 

Mark pat his back, forcing his friend to cough more. He sucked in a breath and grabbed his phone, quickly finding Henry’s contact and calling him. 

_ “Hello?” _ He heard Henry on the other side.  _ “Is something wrong?” _

“Yeah, uh…” Mark looked back down at Michael as he spat out black gunk onto the floor before wheezing again. It’s gonna suck cleaning that up. “I think Michael’s really sick, he keeps spitting out this…  _ black stuff?” _

_ “Uh…” _ Henry went silent for a bit, but the shuffling in the background gave Mark the hint that he had started to gather his things to leave.  _ “Uh, uh, I’ll be there in a minute. Just don’t die, make sure to keep michael from barfing up his guts. A-a-and uh… idk stay saf—”  _ he hung up before he could finish. 

As Mark rubbed his friend’s back, he wondered if Henry had anything else to say and if he hung up on accident. 

“Henry will—”

“We heard ‘im, ya sap.”

“How come you’re so vocal all of a sudden, Jeremy?” Mark asked, rolling his eyes as he continued to rub circles in his friend’s back. “You got any idea what’s going on?”

“No,” Jeremy wheezed, he tilted his head slightly and stared at Mark with crazy silver eyes. “But hell… I know we ain’t okay.” 

He heard growling noises outside the left door and banging.  _ Bang. Bang. Bang.  _

“Just don’t let him die on us.”

Jeremy went to answer, but instead let out a long wheezy cough and spat out more of that gunk. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is sent home early with his friend and also his boss after having another fit.  
> Henry gets snoopy.
> 
> (lowkey I hope y'all like Henry.)

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“Open the door, Mark, it’s me!” Henry’s voice echoed passed the left door.

“How do I know you're not one of your dumb robots?” Mark glared at the door before hovering a finger over the A key.

“Really!?” Henry shouted. “Well… actually that’s not too far off… from what I made before… but. But no! It’s me! c'mon just open the door!”

Mark clicked the key and as soon as the door was halfway up he saw Henry rush through the opening and to Michael’s side. He had passed out at some point while waiting for Henry to arrive, most likely from lack of oxygen. He was breathing now, though, and the coughs were sparse.

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Mark said when Henry pulled Michael’s body back against the chair. His skin was pale like he had been dying. Probably was.

He looked cold.

“Hospital won’t help,” Henry grumbled and forced one of Michael’s eyes open, taking a tiny flashlight from a key chain and turning it on.

“I guess…” Mark sighed and watched the two closely. “What’s uh… how come he has white irises and silver eyes? I mean… I know your eyes are pretty close to silver but at least they have color.”

“I don’t know,” Henry shrugged and let go of Michael’s eyelid and grabbed his jaw, opening his mouth and flashing the light in there. It was coated in the same black gunk he had spat out earlier. “He got it from his dad.”

“William?” Mark asked.

“Yeah.”

“You uh… you two were friends?”

“Yep.”

“Or… more than… that?”

Henry released Michael’s jaw and glared at Mark with his light blue eyes. “Shut up.”

“Is he okay?” Mark asked, ignoring Henry’s demand.

“His father had something weird going on with him,” Henry said, “that made him act weird when he was anywhere where _‘paranormal happenings’_ occurred. I think this might be it.”

“And because of all the killings here, you think he’s seeing ghosts?” Before Henry could say anything, Mark continued. “Are you saying there’s ghosts in our apartment?”

Henry didn’t answer, he just shook Michael slightly, probably seeing if it’d stir him.

“ _Are there ghosts in my apartment?”_

Henry looked up. He shrugged. “Probably. Want me to come with? It’s nearing six.”

“Please. I don’t think I can carry Michael myself.”

Henry nodded and stood up, combing his fingers through his dirty-blond hair before bending down and picking Michael up. He shifted the younger man in his hold so they’d both be comfortable on their way out.

“This is the only way your strength will be useful,” Mark said as he followed Henry out the door of the office and down the hallway. They passed by Bonnie in the hallway. He wanted to die when he realized that Bonnie wasn’t actually turned off as it watched them with its magenta eyes as they walked passed it out of the pizzeria. Even Chica was watching them from the kitchen. _Maybe they really are haunted…_

“That’s the only thing I worked out for actually. William was always up to weird shit and sometimes his weird robot chicken legs stopped working,” Henry snorted as they reached his black truck. “And of course the weirdo never pulled around his wheelchair just in case because of his huge ego, so someone had to help him around.”

Henry laughed lightly when Mark gave him an odd look. He made an awkward stance, shifting Michael’s weight into one arm so he could grab his keys and unlock the truck. Mark grabbed and opened the back door, allowing Henry to set Michael in the back seat before closing the door. He gestured to the passenger before walking around the truck and getting in the driver’s seat.

“What about my car?” Mark asked, spotting his car across the parking lot. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it also wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“We can grab it in the morning,” Henry said while he started his truck. The rumbling of the vehicle was almost deafening.

 

↞ ♡ ↠

 

Mark opened the apartment door with his key, stepping aside to let Henry through first while he still had Michael in his arms. He was surprised his friend was still out, the ride had to have been at least 5 or 10 minutes long. He hoped he was okay.

“Where’s his room?” Henry asked as Mark shut the door.

“Uh, here,” he said, leading the blonde over to Michael’s room. He opened the door and walked in, followed shortly by the other man who set Michael on his bed.

Mark sat on the bed beside his friend, taking a hand and pressing the back of it against his forehead. “He’s freezing cold.”

“Not dead,” Henry mumbled. “Go get him a hot rag or something, we’ll have to watch over him for a while.”

Mark nodded and left the room, leaving Henry to his own devices. He wasn’t sure if he should trust the older man with his lifelong friend but he shook it off and grabbed a hand towel from a drawer near the sink.

Henry wandered the room with his eyes, not moving from his spot by the door. He felt like an intruder more than anything.

He noticed the room was well kept, but still had a mess to it. It reminded him of William’s room actually. Or at least the whole house before he disappeared. It was neat and orderly, but there were still scraps and nuts and bolts scattered around the floor and other surfaces. There was a tv screen but it seemed to have no box or anything connected to it as it sat on the dresser in front of the bed. A desk at a corner had papers and scrap metal covering it as well as a couple shiny mannequin heads and limbs.

Okay that’s weird. He’s scared shitless of mannequins.

_Was he —_

The bedroom door opened and Mark walked in and sat beside his friend again, placing the wet rag on his head. “Will this help?” He asked.

Henry only shrugged, earning a judgmental stare from the younger man. “He should be fine, William usually was when something like this happened.”

Mark frowned. “Do you really have to compare Michael to his dad he doesn’t even know?”

“Oh…” Henry hummed, “I wasn’t aware he didn’t remember him. I’m not comparing though. I’m just applying past experiences with his father to try and answer your questions.”

Mark huffed and turned away, not wanting to look at him. Instead he watched Michael carefully. He’s pale, paler than usual, and he seemed to shake slightly from a cold. His breathing was normal though and his heart rate was fine. He wasn’t dying, that’s for sure, but something was happening to him. The thought of what it might be twisted Mark’s stomach in complex knots.

“Did you know this stuff was here? You know what he works on?” Henry asked.

“No I didn’t. He usually locks his door when he goes to bed,” Mark said, “and even when he’s away I usually don’t try to explore because he seems to know whenever I get snoopy.”

Henry was going to say something, but he dropped it. Instead he mentioned something else. “He’s afraid of mannequins.”

“Yeah? So what?” Mark glared over his shoulder. He dropped it and his jaw when Henry pointed to the scattered limbs of a white mannequin.

“Why…”

“I’m not sure. But it’s making me uneasy,” Henry coughed nervously, prying his eyes away from the object.

Not even seconds later Henry decided — more in spite than anything — to explore. He didn’t want to intrude, but it was only fair since they’ve been digging around _his_ problems lately.

He walked over to the desk, picking up and examining the mannequin’s arm. It’s only a forearm and has joints in the fingers and wrist. It looked just like the husk. The palm is even segmented just like it. It was also a left arm.

As he set it back down he looked over the desk. There’s a head and a few shreds of the black material that make up the joints. He was never this close to a husk, how did Michael even get it? He picked up the black material, feeling it with his fingers. It gave him goosebumps… it felt like muscle tissue.

Henry’s had his fair share of dealing with William’s robot legs to where he knows exactly what muscle feels like. When having to help him connect his nerves and muscle to the metal prosthetic he started to realize how sick William might be. He said the tissue was being used for the legs was just synthetic, that he made it himself. Henry may have never seen a dead body or never hurt anyone intentionally, but having dealt with real tissue and William’s “fake” tissue… there was no doubt it was real.

This felt just like it.

He set it back on the table as quickly as he could, not wanting to think about how it was made. And he certainly didn’t want to touch it again.

He kept looking at the desk, though, noticing how the papers scattered around the table was just a bunch of gibberish. Letters scattered around in forms of long paragraphs littered each page. Then other pages were covering in 0’s and 1’s.

_Is he decoding something?_

Before he went to see if he could read the binary, he noticed an arm was missing. The floor had two legs, although they were completely torn apart. He knew if he kept looking he might find the torso, too. But he’d expect the right arm to be somewhere closer to the left, right? He may just be overthinking things but he was growing concerned.

Maybe he’s just overreacting. He hasn’t been getting the best sleep lately anyway.

“I don’t know what you think you’re looking for, Henry,” Mark started, “but I assure you, Michael doesn’t have it.”

“Not expecting him to,” Henry replied swiftly, walking to the closet on the other side of the room and opening it. Clothes and boxes were scattered in the small room, and sure enough there’s a mannequin’s torso in there too.

What freaked him out the most was that it was completely torn apart. He didn’t know that’s what it looked like on the inside.

The two front plates were removed from the torso, exposing a metal rib cage that wasn’t connected by anything other than a thick spine at the back. By the looks of where it was connected the ribs could move on their own. The spine itself was segmented, of course, by the tissue that allowed the robot to move. It was thick for some reason, like two-arms-width thick.

He didn’t want to think about it anymore, so he shut the closet door and sat on the opposite side of the bed from Michael and Mark. He couldn’t remember how much time something like this would take since whenever it happened to William he ended up falling asleep next to him. It’d be weird if he did that now, so he just watched Michael carefully.

Mark eventually slid off the edge of the bed and onto the floor, resting the back his head against the mattress.

Henry reached over towards Michael, grabbing his arm. He scooted closer and held it up for better inspection. Mark noticed the movement and turned his body around to watch.

Henry’s eyes went wide as he noticed Michael’s right arm was that of the mannequin’s. It was covered in synthetic skin of the same tone as his own. It was subtle, but he could notice the grooves between the joints and between the segments of his palm.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself, brows furrowed. “When the fuck did he lose his arm!?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry gives the boys a night off as he covers for both shifts after Michael had passed out the night before.

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\- .... . -.--     .- .-. .     .-- .- - -.-. .... .. -. --.     -.-- --- ..-

-.-- --- ..-     .-- .. .-.. .-..     -. . ...- . .-.     -... .     .- .-.. --- -. .

-.-- --- ..-     .-- .. .-.. .-..     .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ...     -... .     .-.. .. -.- .     .... .. --

 

Michael slowly peeled his eyes open, his head still swimming. He couldn’t remember much of what happened, only that he was in the office with Mark until his vision went dark. He remembered hearing things, but being unable to make it out. He even saw something? Although he couldn’t see well past the static.

At least the scratching hasn’t come back yet. Maybe it evolved into the black stuff he’d cough out. Although that made no sense.

He slowly sat up, realizing he was in his room. He felt… _off._

_Something wasn’t right._

“WHO TOUCHED MY SHIT!?”

“Mr.Sunshine’s awake,” Mark mumbled, looking over the couch and at Henry who was making tea in the kitchen.

“I may be older than you but I’m not deaf,” he said. “And you have neighbors above and below you so keep your voice down,” he frowned when Michael kicked the door to his bedroom open. He wasn’t exactly phased when he saw the deadly look in his silver eyes. He’s seen a look like that too often to be affected anymore. Not that the look was ever pointed at him, he’s just seen what happened to people when that were given it.

He’d rather not think about that.

“Why were you snooping in my shit!?” Michael sneered, walking up to the older man.

“Serves you right for digging around in my life too, yah?” Henry spat accusingly, but he had an amused smile and a raised brow.

Mark didn’t want to interrupt so he just sat passively on the couch watching the tv, not that he could hear it anyway.

“Besides. Why don’t you tell me what made you lose your arm?” Henry asked, his amused stare turning stone cold. He may not be an overly threatening person, but he still technically had authority over Michael and his friend.

Michael seemed to take the hint and calmed down. “I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

Michael was glad he didn’t need to repeat himself when he heard Henry hum before he took a sip of his warm tea he recently made. He was never a coffee person.

“Why can’t I remember things?” He asked. “Why is there scratching or static in my brain every time I try to remember something?”

Mark had enough of staring at the tv screen after hearing his friend. He sounded kind of distressed so he stood and walked over to join his side in the kitchen. Mainly for emotional support. He was too tired to sass anyway.

“I may not be an expert on people,” Henry started, “but there’s three conclusions I could draw. One: You most likely had amnesia at some point, but then you wouldn’t even know your own name unless it happened when you still lived with your father. Even then that’s a slim chance. Two: Your DID (or whatever they call it now) is probably messing with your memory. And/or three: I’m pretty sure your father probably gave you something to make you forget. He’s advanced like that.”

“I still feel like you make William out to be much smarter than he actually is,” Mark said, crossing his arms and staring up at the older man.

“If he wasn’t smart then I would’ve found him by now,” Henry sneered. “He completely disappeared from my radar ten years ago. It’s like there wasn’t even a trace of him to begin with. No one remembers--”

“That’s because no one wants to.”

Henry didn’t say anything more. He sipped more of his tea before setting the cup down on the counter beside him, his eyes never leaving Mark’s. His cold hard stare gave him shivers, but he ignored it and kept staring back. If this were some kind of challenge then Mark wasn't about to back down and submit.

“William was obsessed with escaping,” Henry said suddenly, catching both boys off guard. “He was always talking about how we could escape and live our lives elsewhere where we couldn’t be found. Where we wouldn’t have to worry about the clutches of society. I didn’t think he was serious when he said we could just disappear like we were never there. Because as I said, I have been searching for over ten years for him, almost eleven, and I’ve found nothing. None of his files even had any plans or blueprints of projects that could help me find him.”

“So he’s just gone?” Michael asked, his hand clutching his shirt.

Henry shook his head. “I’ll give you two the day off tonight. I want you to rest, Michael, before you continue your search for answers. I can give as many answers as I can, but none will ever be able to tell us where he went.”

“And if we find him, then our questions will be answered?”

“You mean _your_ questions,” Mark corrected, “I don’t have questions. I’m just here!”

“Michael, go nap,” Henry said. “Mark, you need to come with me to grab your car.”

“Alright.”

 

↞ ♡ ↠

 

Henry did as he said. He took Mark to the parking lot of the building and let him grab his car. It was morning after all. They hadn’t spoken much during the ride there other than his constant worry over Michael. But he only asked a couple times if he was okay. He was kind of touched that Michael found a friend who didn’t find him weird or crazy or (god-forbid) psychopathic. He isn’t like his father, but Henry could tell he thinks about it a lot. Too much perhaps.

But Henry can’t blame him. He too thinks about the man way too much. He’s always waking up in the morning in bed hoping William would be there. Or even in the workshop building something. Sometimes he never slept. A lot of times he never ate. Henry had gotten so used to nagging at the man to eat, that a wave of depression and realization hit him when he nearly asks what he wants for dinner, only to remember Henry lived in the house alone and that he was just talking to a phantom memory.

It may have been ten years, but the man’s disappearance was sudden. He can’t help but think about it every day. Especially if William and Michael were the last two people left in his life. Michael left for college to follow in his father’s footsteps and William just disappeared from the world. He was delighted when he first got the email from Michael, but he didn’t expect it to evolve into this.

Mark had taken his car and left, waving kindly before pulling away. So once he checked on the animatronics and opened the pizzeria for the day, he went and sat in the room with Pirate’s Cove seeing as how it was void of people. His only company was the robot fox glitching behind the curtains out of view of innocent children and skeptical workers. He wasn’t too worried about something happening to anyone as there has been dayguards watching the kids since last week. He went on a hiring spree and made sure they all knew he wasn’t kidding about what he’d do to them if a child went missing or got hurt.

He may not like threatening people as most threats he makes are empty, but he learned a lot about how people react and what they want to hear from William. He seemed to be an expert at it. He always knew what to say or do, whether it was to an adult or child. Or even Henry.

“Mr.Emily?” A man quietly walked up, lightly tapping Henry’s shoulder. He flinched when the older man gave him a sharp glare. “Uh… there’s a man up front that doesn’t have a child with him and he’s been demanding to see a manager.”

“I ain’t your manager,” Henry hummed, sitting up straight.

“Well… the manager isn't here. She took a week off and she’s still gone.”

Henry groaned and stood, allowing the dayguard to lead him to the man in question. “You wanted someone?” He asked when he saw the man who was clearly older than himself.

“Yeah! You the manager?” He asked.

“No, keep your voice down I ain’t deaf. Our manager is currently on vacation without my notice and she will return with a replacement in her spot.”

“Yeah… well I wanted to inform you that your manager harassed my daughter,” he said, “and either your fire that manager or you will be down a chef.”

“You file a report and I’ll see what I can do,” Henry said as the dayguard walked up with a few pieces of paper. “Right now isn’t the time. The longer you stay here without a child the more I’m inclined to call the cops on you. So go on. Email me a scan of your report.” He turned and left standing buy a corner to watch the man leave the building.

Sometimes he felt he may be a tad bit too harsh.

That night, as he told the boys, he took over the nightshift. He even decided to call in one of his dayguards to take over the security office for him. It was too cramped in there for him and the robots never really bothered him anyway. He even noticed the other night that they left Michael and Mark alone when he arrived. Maybe it's an authority thing.

He sat at one of the tables closer to the stage, eating some leftover pizza from the party earlier. He felt Bonnie’s gaze on him and stared over his shoulder. The purple rabbit stood a few tables behind him, watching him with magenta eyes. Bonnie always freaked him out the most.

The rabbit turned and left, slowly walking down one of the hallways. _So predictable._

His phone buzzed beside the pizza box, the screen lighting up with a message. An email from Mark. He was expecting it to be the man from earlier and not Mark. So instead of ignoring it he picked it up after wiping his grease-covered hands on his pants. He frowned at the email.

 

> _Hey, Henry. Its me… Mark._
> 
> _Michael and I finally decoded that thing he found a while ago (he found a thing btw) and we’re gonna check it out. And yes before you get mad I know he needs rest. He’s been eating and sleeping all day and he seems fine. I’ll call you if something happens._

He continued to frown, responding with: _Okay. Just don’t get hurt or die._

You know… _the usual._

Henry checked the time (5:47) and stood up. He grabbed the box of pizza and walked over down the hallway, seeing Bonnie still by the door. “Get back to the stage, Bonnie, it’s almost 6.”

The large bunny released an odd noise, almost like a hum of acknowledgement before turning and walking away. His metal feet hitting the tile floors echoed down the dark hallway.

The door opened with a hiss and the dayguard popped his head out with a flashlight. “H-hey boss!” he smiled awkwardly when Henry approached him. “Have fun contemplating your life out there? Oh! Can I have a slice?!”

“Sure,” Henry chuckled and set the pizza box on the desk. “Don’t get grease on anything.”

He walked around the guard and sat on the desk by the right door, waiting for the clock to hit 6. They sat in silence for the majority of the time, the only thing breaking it was the fan spinning and the monitors being switched on and off by the guard.

“So…” the guard started once Henry’s alarm went off. “How come Bonnie listened to you?” The two stood and walked out the doors together.

“I made them,” Henry said simply and walked away, unlocking his truck and jumping in. He’d have to come back in a few hours to open the restaurant again, but he has enough time for a short nap.

As he neared his home he slowed down, driving slowly down the road as he noticed the front door to his house was open. _“_ Oh, _hell no,”_ he growled and pulled up the driveway. He quickly jumped out of the truck, locking it with the keyfob and ran to his door, closing it behind him to prevent possible escape. If there were robbers here, he wouldn’t let them get away without a fight. The least they’d get away with would be a couple broken legs.

He stopped, seeing two men in the living room. “What the hell are you doing here?!” He shouted angrily, holding a dangerous stance.

The anger was quickly replaced with confusion in .000001 seconds when one of the men turned around and gasped. “Why are _you_ here?!”

“I live here, you nut-scooper!” He shouted back at Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow holy crap I'm so excited? I haven't ever had motivation like this before to post (almost) daily and finish? Y'all are amazing.  
> I hope y'all liked this fic, there will be another work coming soon! that's right, a sequel ;3  
> Right now I'm going to focus putting this fic elsewhere so I can write the next one. I promised a friend I'd post it in the FNAF amino.
> 
> God I really really hope y'all liked this. I've already gotten a lot of positive feedback and that's probably what motivated e the most and I thank you all so much <3
> 
> (I also enjoy writing Henry a bit too much, so I hope y'all like the inside of his head XD)


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